


Han Solo and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Time-Traveling Road Trip to Meet the Inlaws

by Quo_Usque



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angry Grandpa Han Solo Yells at his Inlaws, Gen, Han Solo decides to adopt all these idiot children, Han Solo's A+ Parenting, Han gets yeeted back in time and proceeds to be mad about it, That's Not How The Force Works, Time Travel, a bit of Kylo Ren-related Angst, including rex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quo_Usque/pseuds/Quo_Usque
Summary: Han Solo dies on Starkiller Base. Han Solo wakes up in the Millenium Falcon, in the middle of the Clone Wars. Han Solo is promptly captured by Anakin and the 501st, and feels that he is fully justified in being incredibly pissed off at his father-in-law.Why is he here? Who, or what, sent him back? What is he here to do? Han doesn't know the answers to these questions, or anything else really, he just knows that his idiot father-in-law needs straightening out, and even though he failed to be the father Ben needed, the Force seems to be giving him a second chance, of sorts.Rated T for Han Solo's potty mouth.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Han Solo, Boba Fett & Han Solo, Han Solo & Ahsoka Tano, Han Solo & CT-7567 | Rex, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 83
Kudos: 541





	1. Han is confused, Anakin is confused, Rex is decisive

**Author's Note:**

> Basically i thought "wouldn't it be really fucking funny if Han got yote back in time and got the chance to yell at Anakin?" And then i kept thinking of ways it would be funny. Mostly involving Han's Latent Dad Instincts popping up and randomly adopting people despite his protests.
> 
> And don't let the summary fool you- Han didn't fail Ben. Ben was an adult who made his own choices. Han just feels guilty about it like any father would.

Getting murdered by his own son was undoubtedly the low point of his week, Han mused. His current situation might just be the weird point. If only because he distinctly remembered being stabbed and falling into a bottomless pit not ten minutes ago, which tended to make one wonder things like “why am I here” and “HOW am I here” and “what the fuck is going on”. The comm light on the Millenium Falcon’s dashboard flashed again. The Imperial-looking Star Destroyer hanging in space out his forward view port was hailing him. Again. Bemusedly, he reached out and flicked the switch.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Unidentified freighter, you have entered an active combat zone. Identify yourself immediately or you will be treated as an enemy combatant.”  
“Hey now, that’s a little uncalled for.” Han said, on autopilot. _Stall_ , his decades of instincts told him. If he identified himself truthfully, this Imperial Remnant ship would no doubt blow him to smithereens. That’s what they had to be, right? Some Imperial Remnant that had somehow been hanging around for three decades without anyone noticing. Maybe it was simply a pirate gang that had managed to snag themselves an old Imp cruiser. Which made Han want to identify himself even less. He shoved down the incessant voice in the back of his head that kept yelling at him that he was _dead,_ he’d just _died,_ how the _hell_ was he on the Millenium Falcon in fuck-knows-where space-

“I’m just a simple freight hauler, looking to finish my job and get paid. No need for threats.” He fired up the Falcon’s scanners, searching the area for other ships. The Destroyer had said  _ active combat zone _ , and Han didn’t like the sound of that.

“Identify yourself. This is your last chance.” His scanners picked up something all right- the Star Destroyer firing up it’s turbolasers. They weren’t kidding around.

“Okay, okay, keep your trousers on.” Han said. Looks like stalling didn’t get him very far. And neither would lying- anyone with rudimentary scanners would be able to identify his ship, seeing as he hadn’t scrambled the comm ID since he’d been too busy, you know,  _ getting killed by his own son _ . And once they ID’d the Millenium Falcon, they’d know who he was, too. 

“This is Han Solo, captain of the Millenium Falcon.” He said. “May I ask who you are?”  
“This is the Republic cruiser _Resolute_ ,” the voice over the comm said. “Power down your engines and prepare for tractor. Resistance will be met with force.” Han’s eyebrows shot skywards.

“ _ Republic?” _ He said incredulously. “Nice try. The Republic doesn’t have any ships like yours, pal. I’m not that out of the loop. And I wanna know under just  _ whose _ authority you’re detaining me! I haven’t done anything illegal, and you don’t have any probable cause to search my vessel. Trust me, pal, if you do this I’m gonna throw every statute on the books at you-” The Falcon jerked and shuddered. “HEY!” Han yelled into the com. “What’s the big idea?” But it was too late. The cruiser’s starboard tractor beams had a lock on him and were dragging him slowly but inexorably in.

“Millenium Falcon, power down your engines.” The voice from the com said.

“Like  _ hell _ I will-” Han was interrupted by another jolt as a turbolaser blast from the cruiser just skimmed his hull. A warning shot. A  _ good  _ one. It’d passed barely ten meters away. “Okay, okay, I get the point. Powering down now.” Han said. He flicked the appropriate switches and pulled the main drive lever. The Falcon stopped emitting the grinding background shriek of sublights trying to fight a tractor beam. Han crossed his arms, staring at the  _ impossible _ ship pulling him in, and settled in to wait.

The Falcon was maneuvered into a massive hangar bay. Instead of TIE fighters, there were rows and rows of what looked like old Clone Wars-era y-wings. It struck him as funny that the Empire was resorting to ancient salvaged fighter craft, just like the Rebellion had had to do back in the beginning. But something about that wasn’t right. Those y-wings didn’t look like salvage. They were too uniform, for one. Han frowned to himself as the Falcon was settled onto the landing pad. He didn’t like this. The hangar bay was crawling with stormtroopers, too, wearing old-fashioned looking helmets. Apparently whatever imperial warlord ran this show had imparted his own fashion sense onto his troops. Instead of the standard stark white, the stormtroopers all had blue markings on their armor. Whatever that meant. They’d probably have to repaint it in a week when the next imperial warlord or angry pirate killed the current guy and took over. The Empire was kinda like that, these days.

A squad of stormtroopers was approaching his ship. Nine armored men, one of them- the captain, no doubt- wearing a pauldron- and an unarmored, taller man with dark hair. Instead of an Imperial uniform, he wore dark tunics that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the lower levels of a spaceport. Han stood, hit the switch for the boarding ramp, and left the cockpit to greet the welcoming committee.

Han descended the ramp just as the squad reached the Falcon, and stopped dead.  _ Well. _ he thought.  _ This might as well happen, I guess. _ The captain of the stormtrooper squad was wearing a helmet marked with a  _ very  _ familiar set of blue jaig eyes.

“...Hey, Rex.” Han said, for lack of anything better to say. Rex stiffened.

“How do you know my name?” And Han almost teared up at the sound of that familiar voice, tight and tense though it was.

“Ouch, that’s a little rude, old buddy.” Han said, not really paying attention to what he was saying. He hadn’t heard that voice since... “I know we haven’t seen each other in twenty-odd years,” Han continued, on autopilot, “but I’d have thought you’d remember me a little better.” Rex had  _ died _ . Han had been there. Had held Leia while she cried and tried to fight back tears himself. Han had spoken at his  _ funeral _ . He’d had to take Ben outside because he’d only been ten and he’d been so hurt and angry at the universe for taking his Uncle Rex away. 

“What the hell,” Rex said, “are you talking about.” 

“Not exactly the afterlife I’da chosen, gotta say.” Han said. Because that’s what this had to be, right? Rex was dead. He was dead. Though, why the afterlife would look like an imperial star destroyer, and lack some basic facets like  _ his parents _ and Wedge Antilles, and all the friends and comrades he’d had die on him over the years, Han couldn’t say.

“Rex, do you know this guy?” Tall-Dark-and-Scruffy said.

“No, sir.” Rex asserted. Ouch. Han tried not to be offended. Scruffy-McSpacerpants turned to Han.

“Captain Solo, was it? How do you know Captain Rex?”

“What’s it to you?” He asked, folding his arms and glaring at the kid. Guy couldn’t be halfway through his twenties. And Rex was calling him  _ sir _ ? 

“Well, when a civilian craft appears in the middle of my blockade without so much as raising a perimeter alert, and the captain apparently knows  _ my _ captain by name, I consider it to be my business.” Spacer-von-Sarcasm said. 

“I didn’t see any blockade.” Han said. Ignoring the fact that he’d just woken on the Millenium Falcon in the middle of space, after being stabbed in the gut with a lightsaber. By his own son. Was this some sort of Force woo-woo nonsense? “And who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot.” Stupid-Hair said. “I’m sure you meant no harm. I’m General Anakin Skywalker of the Grand Army of the Republic. I’m in command of the forces in this sector.” Han’s eyebrows rocketed skywards.

“Oh, you  _ are _ , are you?” He said. His ears were buzzing. Anakin Skywalker. Darth Vader. He could see it now. Luke had dug up a few historical holos a while back, and, now that it was pointed out to him, this was undoubtedly Anakin Skywalker. “ _ Anakin Skywalker,  _ huh?” He put his hands on his hips and took a step forward. 

“Uh, yes.” Skywalker looked a bit nonplussed. Han didn’t care.

“You’ve got a hell of a lot of  _ nerve, _ asshole. After the shit you pulled?” Skywalker took a step back.

“I’m sorry, what?” he said. 

“ _ Maybe we got off on the wrong foot? _ You fucking think so?” Han hissed, jabbing a finger in Skywalker’s chest. “You think you can just waltz up to me, act all  _ nice _ , and get a clean slate? Huh?” Han was yelling now, but he didn’t care. Skywalker raised his hands in a placating gesture, but Han barreled on. “After what you did to your family? To  _ my _ family?” _ After you tortured my wife and forced her to watch as you blew up her home? After you tortured ME, and your son, and cut his fucking hand off? After I watched you burn, and just the memory of you took my son from me and tore my family apart? _

“Hey, calm down, I don’t-” Skywalker said. Han ignored him, and ignored Rex and his men, who had their blasters aimed at him. Han jabs his finger into Skywalker’s chest again, forcing him to take a step back as Han advances on him.

“I don’t care if Luke’s forgiven you, because I certainly haven’t, and  _ Leia _ certainly hasn’t, and the  _ rest of the goddamn galaxy  _ sure as  _ fuck _ hasn’t-” Han’s ranting now, emotion boiling over and spilling out, and the utter confusion radiating off of Skywalker does nothing to stem it. A stun bolt from Rex’s blaster sure does, though. A flash of blue, and Han crumples as everything goes black.  _ Ah fuck, not again, _ he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Han gets an explanation of sorts. Anakin tries to figure out who the hell this angry old man is. Rex gets unwillingly adopted.


	2. In Which Han Cycles through Several Emotions Rapidly, Anakin is Still Confused, and Rex gets Adopted but Doesn't Know it Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no beta readers we die like mne

HAN SOLO.

Han is dead. Obviously. Still dead, that is. And now he’s dreaming. A blank void, and a voice. The voice isn’t sound, so much as it is a feeling, an impression of meaning. It says his name again.

HAN SOLO.

 _Yep, that’s me._ Han says. Tries to say. Thinks? He’s not sure.

YOU ARE RECKLESS, HAN SOLO.

_Yeah? What of it? I died, not like anything else is going to happen to me._

I ASSURE YOU HAN SOLO. THINGS CAN VERY MUCH STILL HAPPEN TO YOU.

_Well that’s very reassuring._

YOU MUST BE CAREFUL. DO NOT UPSET THE BALANCE OF THE PAST AND THE FUTURE.

_Whaddaya mean, past and future? Is this some sort of Force bullshit?_

YOU ARE WITHIN THE FORCE, YES.

_Cause I’m getting real tired of this stupid Force bullshit. And I married a Jedi._

THE BALANCE, HAN SOLO. YOU MUST TREAD CAREFULLY.

_I’m not gonna be careful about jack shit until i get some sort of explanation as to what’s going on here._

YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN A CHANCE.

_A chance?_

A CHANCE TO RIGHT THE WRONGS OF THE PAST.

_You’re being very unhelpful. How about you start talking straight, and I might listen?_

WHAT DO YOU WISH ME TO TELL YOU?

_You can start with why my buddy Rex doesn’t know who I am, and why he’s hanging around with my evil, galaxy-terrorizing father-in-law._

...YOU DO NOT KNOW?

_No! I don’t!_

YOU HAVE TRAVELED THROUGH TIME, HAN SOLO.

_... are you FUCKING SHITTING me._

I SHIT YOU NOT, HAN SOLO.

_Time travel? This is such fucking bullshit._

YOU MUST MAINTAIN THE BALANCE BETWEEN-

_The past and the future, yeah, you said. Care to tell me what the hell that means, in concrete terms?_

...BASICALLY, DON’T TELL ANYONE YOU’RE FROM THE FUTURE.

_Why not?_

...BECAUSE. THE FORCE WON’T LIKE IT.

_The Force won’t like it? You are so full of shit. Who the hell are you, anyway?_

A FRIEND.

_You are NOT helpful._

MAINTAIN THE BALANCE, HAN SOLO. RIGHT THE WRONGS OF THE PAST. DO NOT PASS UP THIS CHANCE.

The voice- thought, whatever- was fading.

_Now, wait a minute-_

WE WILL SPEAK AGAIN, HAN SOLO.

_Get back here, you little-_

Han woke up.

He was in a small holding cell, a red ray-shield between him and the hallway outside. He was sore all over. He groaned and sat up, trying to shake out the aching tingle in his muscles. It wasn’t the first time he’d been stunned by Rex. He really was getting too old for this. Although, considering the circumstances, it technically _was_ the first time he’d been stunned by Rex. _Time travel. What the hell._

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring his aching back, and gave himself a quick once-over. No injuries that he could see. Definitely no gaping lightsaber wound in his gut. And no weapons. They'd let him keep his jacket, but they'd taken his blaster, his backup blaster, and they'd even found his secret backup-backup snubnose. Though, to be fair, it had been Rex who'd showed him how to conceal that thing in the first place, so Han couldn't exactly expect him to miss it. Han rotated his head, trying to get the crick out of his neck, and stepped to the front of the cell. Two clone troopers stood guard, armor marked with blue paint the same shade as Rex’s. And of _course_ they were clone troopers, not stormtroopers. Now that Han actually looked, he could see the differences in the shapes of the helmets and chest plates. He huffed out a deep breath. So. Time travel. All the way back to the Clone Wars, apparently. And the first thing he’d managed to do was get himself captured by his own father-in-law, after yelling at him for a bunch of things he hadn’t even done, yet. And he’d pissed off Rex, too. _Oh, great job, Solo. Really great._ Rex wouldn’t even have any idea who he was. Well, he’d just have to do his best to get back on the right foot with Rex, at least. Skywalker, he wasn’t so sure about. He kinda wanted to deck the guy, never mind that he was a Jedi who could choke him with his mind.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. The two troopers on guard saluted as Rex stepped into view.

“Rex! Hey, buddy.” Han said.

“Captain Solo,” Rex said, his modulated voice cool and controlled. “General Skywalker has some questions for you. I’m to escort you to a secure room for your interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” Han said, incredulously. “There’s no need for-” Rex cut him off.

“Do I need to restrain you or are you going to behave?” Han raised his hands.

“I’ll behave, I’ll behave! No need for restraints.” Han couldn’t discern Rex’s expression through his helmet, but Han could swear he was giving him one of his Looks. Han wasn't stupid enough to to disregard a Look.

“I promise, I’ll be good.” Han said, giving Rex one of his disarming smiles.

“Give me any trouble, and you’ll regret it. Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.” Rex said, deactivating the ray shield. Han remembered too late that his disarming smiles never worked on Rex. “Jesse, with me.” Rex said. One of the troopers on guard, with an Imperial cog painted across his helmet _-Republic. Republic cog,_ Han reminded himself- stepped into the cell with Rex. They each took one of Han’s arms, twisted them behind his back, and frog-marched him from the room.

The journey wasn’t a long one, which Han was grateful for. His shoulders didn’t appreciate the angle of Rex and Jesse’s arm lock on him. Rex shut down his casual attempt at verbal prodding with a sharp “No talking.” So Han stayed silent until they reached their destination. Leaving Jesse outside the door, Rex escorted him into a what looked like some sort of meeting room, where Skywalker was waiting, seated at the small table.

“Captain Solo.” Skywalker said. “Have a seat.” The door sealed behind them as they entered. Rex unceremoniously shoved Han down into the seat opposite Skywalker, then went to stand behind his General, one hand pointedly resting on the blaster at his hip.

“Skywalker.” Han said.

“I have some questions for you, Captain Solo.” Skywalker said. “And before we begin, I want to warn you: don’t lie to me. I’m a Jedi. I’ll know.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” Han said, barely containing his eye-roll. He managed to lie to Luke all the time. He couldn’t lie to Leia, but that was because she was his wife. Point was, having stupid Force-powers didn’t make you an automatic lie-detector. Not that he’d be able to lie to Skywalker anyway, because Han was a terrible kriffing liar and Luke was too gullible for his own good, but that was neither here nor there. Skywalker narrowed his eyes, but let Han’s flippancy pass.

“We’ll start with the simple stuff, Captain. How did you get through the blockade perimeter, and what is your purpose here?” Han heaved a sigh.

“Well, you’re not gonna like this.” He said. “But I don’t know.”

“You... don’t know?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. No clue.” Han shrugged. Skywalker glared at him. Maybe Han was just seeing Vader in him, but Skywalker seemed a bit... on edge.

“Explain.”

“I don’t know how I got here. One minute I was busy taking a lightsaber through the gut, and the next I was in my ship, and you were hailing me.” Skywalker’s face was the height of incredulity. 

“You look remarkably healthy for a man who claims he got stabbed right before we pulled him in.”

“I know, right? The wonders of modern medicine.” Han shrugged again.

“Care to tell me who stabbed you?” Skywalker asked.

“No one you know.” Han said, waving the question away. He’d really rather Skywalker dropped the topic. Thinking about the last time he’d seen his son gave him a twisting feeling in his stomach that felt remarkably like getting stabbed again.

“Give me a name.” Skywalker said. “I can check the Temple records.”

“He wasn’t a Jedi.” Han said.

“How can you be sure?” Skywalker pressed. Han made a derisive sound.

“Jedi don’t carry red lightsabers, last time I checked.” he said, bitterly. Unwillingly, he remembered Ben, proudly showing him his first lightsaber. Green. _“Just like Uncle Luke’s!”_ He’d been so proud of him. Skywalker leaned over the table towards him, expression tense.

“You were attacked by a _Sith?”_ He asked.

“Kinda.” Han said. _Was_ Ben a Sith? He’d never claimed any sort of title like _Lord_ or _Darth._ “Maybe? You know, it’s really unclear.” Skywalker frowned at him.

“It’s unclear whether or not you were fighting a Sith?” He said.

“It wasn’t exactly a fight.” Han dodged, defensively. He’d _never_ fight his own son. “I was trying to talk him down! It just... I guess he’d already made his choice.” He looked away. He would _not_ cry in front of Darth Vader. 

“Did he look anything like this guy?” Skywalker said. Han took a deep breath, shoved his feelings aside for the moment, and turned to look at the holo Skywalker was showing him. Some old guy, older than he was, with a white beard and the kind of face that just begged to be punched.

“No, not at all.” Han said.

“You’re sure?” Skywalker pressed.

“Of course I’m-” Han stopped mid-sentence, realizing why Skywalker was so bent on pinning an ID to Han’s murderer. Of course. From what history Han remembered, there had been a very limited number of Sith running around during the Clone Wars. And he might have just managed to convince Skywalker that there was another one. Han sighed internally. He had no idea yet what the hell he was supposed to be doing here, but sending Not-Evil-Yet Darth Vader on a wild bantha chase after a Sith who wouldn’t exist for fifty years was bound to be counterproductive.

“Actually, yeah, that’s him.” Han said, switching tacs. “That’s definitely him.” He was a lying liar who lied. And Skywalker knew it.

“Try again, Solo.” He said, an almost-dangerous expression on his face. “With the _truth,_ this time.” Han briefly considered doubling down, but he knew when to stop digging. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked Skywalker in the eyes.

“His name was Ben.” He said quietly. “I was trying to talk him back to the Light. It didn’t work.” And dammit, the tears were back. He looked away, trying to blink them back.

“Here.” Skywalker’s voice was soft. Han looked down, and took the rag Skywalker was offering him. He wiped his eyes, and gave himself a moment to get it together.

“Thanks.” He handed the oil-stained cloth back to Darth Kriffing Vader.

“I’m sorry.” Skywalker said. “He must have been important to you.” Han waved his words away. If he started talking about it now, he’d completely break down and that wasn’t something he wanted to do in front of this man. He buried the little flare of anger that reared its head, hissing _how DARE he offer sympathy? He was Ben’s role model!_

“But...” Skywalker was talking again. “You know that’s futile, right?” 

“What?” Han said.

“You can’t... talk someone back from the Dark Side.” Skywalker looked painfully apologetic, as if he didn’t want to tell Han this, but felt like he had to. “Once someone falls to the Dark, they’re gone. They can’t return to the Light.” Han stared at him in disbelief. What sort of nonsense...?

“Bullshit.” he said. “People can turn back to the light, they just have to decide to not, you know, be evil for a change.” Skywalker snorted.

“Trust me, Solo, it’s really not that simple.” 

“Okay, maybe it’s not that simple,” Han allowed, “But it’s _possible.”_ Arguing was much better, Han decided. He could do arguing without breaking down in tears.

“Really.” Skywalker folded his arms. “Name one Sith Lord who returned to the light.” Han restrained himself from saying _“the idiot sitting right in front of me,”_ and decided to approach it from an oblique angle.

“One of my best friends talked a guy back to the Light side,” he said. 

“And how exactly did he accomplish that?” Skywalker demanded. Han shrugged. Luke had only ever given him the rough outlines of what had happened on the second Death Star.

“He asked him really nicely for help.”

“Oh, and the Sith Lord just went ‘Okay, I guess I’ll just stop being an evil murderous bastard’?”

“Well, it sounds _stupid_ when you put it like that.”

“Not to mention, where did your “friend” even find a Sith Lord to politely ask? It’s not like we have a surplus of reformed former Sith running around.” Han opened his mouth, but Rex interrupted, clearing his throat.

“I’m sure this is important, General,” Rex began. _You’re damn right it’s important,_ Han didn’t say, “But I’d like to know more about this supposed Sith who allegedly attacked Captain Solo. If this ‘Ben’ is someone we’re going to have to worry about, I’d like to be able to plan ahead.” Skywalker nodded.

“Good point, Rex.” He said. “Solo-”

“He’s not gonna be a problem.” Han said.

“Did you kill him, then?” Rex said flatly, folding his arms.

“No, I didn’t kill him-”

“Then,” Skywalker said, “How can you be sure he won’t be a problem?”

“I didn’t kill him,” Han repeated, casting about for something he could say that wouldn’t be a lie. “But I can definitively tell you, that he is not currently alive.” Skywalker looked at him, and for a moment, Han was uncomfortably reminded of the way Luke looked when he was reading your emotions in the Force.

“Okay.” Skywalker said at last. “I’ll believe you for now.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Han muttered.

“So,” Skywalker continued. “You have no idea how you got here after the Sith attacked you?”

“Well, not _no_ idea.” Han said. There had been that weird dream, after all. “The best I can give you is that it’s some sort of weird Force bullshit.”

“Some sort of weird Force bullshit.” Skywalker said, nodding in understanding. “Yeah, that happens sometimes.” Rex cleared his throat again.

“Sir, we _are_ on a timetable.”

“ _Thank you,_ Rex.” Skywalker said. “Okay Solo, let’s cut to the important part. Are you, or have you ever been, allied with the Separatists?”

“Hell no.” Han said, completely truthfully. “I spent the better part of a decade fighting for the Republic.” Fighting to restore the Republic, maybe. Same difference.

“Is he telling the truth, sir?” Rex asked.

“Yes.” Skywalker said. Han celebrated silently. Chalk one up for shitty liars. “One more question for now, Solo.” Skywalker fixed him with a Look that Han would swear he’d stolen from Rex. “How did you know Captain Rex’s name, and what in the blazes were you yelling at me about doing something to your family, and not being forgiven? And who are Luke and Leia?” 

Han cursed his past self. Damn him for not having better control over his emotions after life-endingly traumatic events. He opened his mouth, and found that he had nothing. There really wasn’t anything he could say to believably wriggle his way out of this one without telling the truth. A truth which the voice in his dream had warned him to avoid. A shiver ran down his spine, and Han knew, quite certainly and with no good reason, that there would be dire consequences if he ignored the voice's warning.

“I... can’t tell you that.” He said. Skywalker’s eyebrows made a break for the heavens.

“And why is that?” he asked.

“Because, it... the Force... doesn’t want me to.”

“The Force doesn’t want you to.” Skywalker repeated. Han nodded.

“The Force doesn’t want me to.” He confirmed. “Gave me a warning about it, actually. A pretty strong one. And I’m inclined to listen to it, you know?” He gave Skywalker a meaningful look. He was gambling on Skywalker’s Jedi training being similar enough to Luke’s that he had also been taught to “listen to the Force” and “let the Force guide him” and whatever other woo-woo stuff Luke spouted. Skywalker nodded.

“I understand.” He said. “Is there anything you _can_ tell me? I want to know what I’ve done that I need to be forgiven for.” He looked so earnest, so much like _Luke_ , that Han couldn’t just leave him hanging.

“Nothing yet.” he said. “All that stuff... you haven’t done anything yet. The, uh, Force showed me a couple of things.” He cringed internally, but Skywalker only nodded.

“Thank you.” He said. “And can you tell me where you’ve met Captain Rex before?” Han considered.

“I know him, but he doesn’t know me. I guess, from a certain point of view, we haven’t met before at all.” Han said, hating how much he sounded like Luke in one of his “Jedi bullshit” moods. Skywalker took it in stride.

“Then I guess I’d better introduce you.” He said, gesturing for Rex to remove his helmet. “Captain Solo, my Commander, Captain Rex of the 501st Legion. Rex-” But Han had stopped listening. Rex’s helmet came off, and Han’s first thought was _Oh my god. He’s a baby._ Then, _Huh, I didn’t know Rex was blond back when he had hair._ Followed by _Holy shit, he’s a BABY._ He numbly took the hand Rex extended, and shook it. Rex looked so shockingly _young,_ as young as Luke and Leia had been at the Battle of Yavin. He looked about a decade younger than Han’s own _son_. Han realized that some part of him had been expecting the beard and the kind, crinkly eyes that he’d known for over a decade. Rex retracted his hand. His commlink beeped, and he looked at it, before turning to Skywalker.

“Sir, the recon team reported in. No sign of the shuttle, or any of the crew.” Han tried not to stare at Rex’s smooth, unlined face, at his eyes, which were way too old for it. When Ben had been that young, Han had been visiting him once a month at Luke’s academy. He'd been about to graduate. Rex looked, what, twenty? Twenty-two, maybe? _Nine hells, he’s just a kid._ And with what Rex and Ahsoka had told him about clones and accelerated aging- Rex couldn’t be more than eleven or twelve years old. _Oh, shit._ Skywalker’s face twisted up. 

“Don’t worry, sir. She’ll be fine. She can take care of herself.” Rex said. He’d turned his back to Han and was speaking quietly, clearly not wanting to do this in front of a stranger. Han could see the tightening behind his eyes that said that Rex wasn’t nearly as assured as he pretended. He felt his heart swell with latent paternal instinct, which was a truly strange sensation when his fatherly feelings were being kicked into gear by a man whom he’d considered a mentor within the Rebellion. Rex was the one who’d taught him strategy and tactics, who’d taught him how to lead people, who’d turned him from a smuggler with inconvenient attacks of morality into a soldier, a leader. Without Rex, there never would have been a General Solo.

“I need to get down there.” Skywalker said. 

“You can’t, sir,” Rex said. “We need you here.”

“I know, Rex, but-” 

“Who’s missing?” Han interrupted. “It’s not Ahsoka, is it?” A gamble, but probably a safe one. How many women that Skywalker cared about personally would be on a military ship full of clones, after all? Not to mention, women that Rex also cared about? Skywalker and Rex turned to stare at him, their expressions telling him both that he was right, and that he was fully karked if his wild bullseye-in-the-dark pushed either one of them one inch closer to the conclusion that he might have had something to do with it.

“What do you know about Ahsoka? Where is she?” Skywalker asked, low and dangerous. _You know, he didn’t really need the mask._ Han decided. _He’s scary enough as it is._

“I don’t know anything about where she is.” Han said, raising his hands defensively. “I just got a feeling, is all. You know, from the Force. That she might need some help, or something.” 

“I’m sure your concern is appreciated, Solo,” Rex said, expression saying the exact opposite, “but it’s none of your business.” He turned pointedly back to Skywalker. “Sir, I’ll take a second team down to the surface. You need to stay up here with the defenses. If Grievous’ fleet is truly on its way, you’ll be needed up here.” 

“I’m needed down _there_ , Rex.” Skywalker argued, reminding Han of Luke with the force of a sledgehammer to the solar plexus. “We have hardly any intel about the Sep forces on the ground, and if you get spotted coming in-”

“We’ll take my ship.” Han interjected, like an idiot with a death wish.

“ _Your_ ship?” Rex said, at the same moment that Skywalker said _“We?”_

“Yeah.” Han nodded. “I”ll help you out. We can take my ship. It’s not Republic, and it’s decently well armed. Should have a lot easier time sneaking past any ground defenses than one of your shuttles.”

Skywalker and Rex shared a look.

“No offense, Solo,” Rex said, “But I don’t want to be dragging around an unarmed civilian in a warzone.”

“So give me back my blaster, and I won’t be unarmed.” Han said, reasonably. “And I’m not exactly useless, I used to be a general, you know.” Rex gave him a considering look. 

“Okay,” he said. “Good enough for me.” Han was surprised. What part of what he’d said had made Rex trust him so easily? Rex turned to Skywalker. “Sir? What do you think?” Anakin glared at Han.

“How do I know I can trust you, Solo?” He asked.

“Come on.” Han said, giving Skywalker his best disarming smile. It always worked on Luke, so it might be worth a shot against his father. “Search your feelings, or something. You can trust me. I don’t want Ahsoka in danger any more than you do.” Skywalker stared at him like he was trying to dissect the universe through Han’s eyeballs.

“Alright.” He said at last. “I’ll trust you.”

“Great.” Han said. “Let’s go prep the Falcon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rex: removes helmet  
> han: BABBY? is BABBY?? MUST PROTECC
> 
> Han concludes that "the Force did it" is a valid explanation for everything, and he's going to keep using it.
> 
> Next: Han and Rex go searching for Han's OTHER mentor from his Rebellion days, Rex makes some *assumptions*, and Han tries to keep his new son Safe
> 
> EDIT: removed a few typos, and fixed some truly questionable phrasing. Including where I used the word "warning" like three times in the same sentence. Some additions, but no substantive changes. Note to self: re-read chapters before you post them, especially if written at 4am after no sleep.


	3. Han exudes Dad Energy, Rex gets Suspicious, and we are joined by Fives and Echo, who are Bad at Space Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Anakin interviews Han, Han makes excuses ("the Force did it"), and volunteers his ship to go down to the surface of the planet and search for Ahsoka, who is missing. Also, Han sees Rex without his helmet on, concludes that Rex is a Baby, and adopts him.
> 
> This time: They get on the ship. The Disaster Duo show up. Also, I did not get as much plot in as I wanted, but HEY at least I updated, ya know?

“What a hunk of junk!” Skywalker said, hands on his hips and staring up at the Falcon. Han closed his eyes and briefly considered praying for strength.  _ Skywalkers.  _ “I love it!”

“Ya do?” Han said.

“She’s great!” Darth Kriffing Vader said. “Is that a SLAM overdrive on the sublights?”

“Yeah, it is.” Han said. “Really gives her a boost in tight spots.” He eyed the future genocidal warlord, who was looking at his ship like a child who’d just been given a new toy. Han very deliberately did not think of any specific child. “You’ve got an eye for ships.”

“I like tinkering.” Skywalker shrugged. “Is she fast?” Even Darth Vader had to have a hobby, Han supposed.

“Fastest ship around.” He said, no small amount of pride tingeing his voice. “Me and this old lady did the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.”

_ “Twelve parsecs?”  _ Skywalker whistled lowly. “How’d you pull that off?”

“I took a shortcut.” Han said, trying not to sound too smug. “Past a black hole.”

“So long as you can fly the damn thing without hitting anything on the way down, I’m happy.” Rex pushed between them, effectively cutting them short, and deposited the pack he was carrying on the Falcon’s loading ramp. It was hard to tell through the helmet, but Han knew what a Captain Rex Eyeroll looked like, and he heard him mutter under his breath,  _ “Why _ do they always give me the crazy ones.” Han tried not to be offended at being compared to Darth Vader.

Footsteps behind him announced the arrival of two other clone troopers.

“You two,” Rex gestured to the new arrivals. “Load your gear and get settled. We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Sir!” the troopers saluted and hurried past Han, carrying packs like Rex’s. They both had the pauldron and double-skirt thing that Rex did. Han didn’t know if it was some sort of indicator of rank, or perhaps just a fashion choice. One of the troopers, who had a blue handprint on his chestplate, nodded to Han as they passed, disappearing up the ramp and into his ship. 

“Just two men, Rex?” Skywalker raised his eyebrows.

“Smaller team means more maneuverability, General. We already know we’re aiming for stealth, so extra guns would be a greater risk than it’s worth. Besides, there’s a good chance you’ll need everyone you have up here.” He and Skywalker shared a look, which was probably supposed to communicate something about that General Gangrene or whoever it was who was supposedly going to show up. Han didnt know, and it was Skywalker’s problem, not his. He hoped. 

“So.” Han said. “Are we all set?” He turned to Skywalker. “Did you get her fueled?”

“Yep.” Skywalker nodded. “Pit crews took care of it. By the way, did you know that someone bypassed your  compressor?”

“Yeah. I did.” Han said, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Of all the harebrained mid-flight engineering stunts... “Don’t try to fix it right now, it’ll break at least seven other things.”  Rex approached them, frowning.

“Is that thing actually going to make it to the surface in one piece?” He eyed the Falcon dubiously.

“Of course!” Han said. “I’ve pulled a lot of stunts in this ship. Trust me, she’ll hold.” Rex gave him the side-eye, but shrugged.

“If you say so.” He donned his helmet. “I suggest you begin prepping for takeoff. We’re leaving as soon as I have a word with the General.” Rex didn’t say  _ “in private”  _ but Han heard it loud and clear. 

“Yeah, sure.” He should probably make sure the two on the ship weren’t getting into anything they shouldn’t. Now that he thought of it, Han had no idea whether or not the smuggling compartments had anything dubious in them. Not to mention the exposed panels- Han could think of at least six- that absolutely Should Not Be Touched under any circumstances.

Rex waited until Solo disappeared up the boarding ramp. “Are you sure about this, sir?” General Skywalker sighed, and Rex could hear the unspoken worry and tension behind it.

“I don’t know, Rex.” He said softly. “I know he was telling the truth, and I didn’t sense any bad intentions from him.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Rex pushed down some nerves of his own. General Skywalker never showed uncertainty and anxiety like this. Except when someone he cared about was in danger, and he couldn’t help them. Skywalker folded his arms. “I feel like this is the right path, but I can’t tell if that’s what the Force is telling me, or if it’s just... desperation.”

“I don’t know about the Force,” Rex said, nudging Skywalker’s shoulder with his own. “But I know my men. We’ll bring her home, General. He fixed his face into his  _ Confident CO _ expression. “We’ll contact you as soon as we have eyes on the Commander.” Skywalker gave him a solid attempt at a smile.

“Thanks, Rex.” He nudged Rex’s shoulder back. In truth, Rex had deep misgivings about this whole batshit situation, and about a thousand questions about Solo that he’d feel much more comfortable having answered, but right now, his General needed him to be confident and calm, so that’s what Rex would be. Skywalker turned a scrutinizing look at Rex. “You’re sure you’ve never met him before, right?”

“Absolutely, sir.”  _ Though I’d like to know how the fuck he knows me, too. _ He shrugged. “Maybe I’m a minor celebrity on whatever planet he’s from, and I just didn’t know it?” That pulled a chuckle out of his General. 

“Hopefully we’ll find some answers when you get back.”

“Just make sure you’ve kicked Grievous’ shebs back to Seppie space before I do, sir. I would hate to have to pick up your mess again.”

“Just make sure I don’t have to come down there and save your ass.”

“That was  _ one time,  _ sir.”

“Sure it was.” Skywalker gripped his forearm and gave him a smile that might have passed for confident. “Go get our girl, Rex.” Rex returned the grip.

“Yes sir.”

“Good luck, Captain.”

“May the Force be with you, General.” Rex saluted and turned to walk up the ramp.

Solo’s ship was, impressively, almost as much of a broken-down trashpile as General Skywalker’s  _ Twilight. _ Rex ducked under a cluster of wires dangling from an open ceiling panel, and his boots scuffed over a light coating of honest-to-fuck  _ sand  _ on the floor. He resolved to get a broom crew in here before letting General Skywalker set foot on this ship. He found Solo and the Terrible Twosome in the crew area, seated on an acceleration couch around a dejarik table. Fives and Echo appeared to be playing as a team, and also losing. Rex sighed.

“Seriously?”

“Sir!” Echo saluted him hurriedly. Fives was too busy looking at the board in indignant despair. Rex folded his arms.

“We do not have time for you two to kark up playing Dejarik, no matter how quickly you manage to do it.” Solo leaned back, arms behind his head and a smug grin on his face.

“You were taking a while, so we had to entertain ourselves.” Judging from the confused frustration on his vod’ike’s faces, Solo was the one getting all the entertainment. Rex sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I was gone for  _ less than two minutes.”  _ Echo, at least, had the decency to look ashamed. They were Rex’s ARCs, they had no business getting their asses kicked in less than two minutes.

“I just don’t get it!” Fives cried. “We’re ARCs! How are we losing this badly?”

“Aw, don’t feel bad,” Solo said, smugness inching up a notch or three. “I’m known for my tactical genius.” Fives made an inarticulate noise of pain. Solo stood. “Come on,” he said, clapping Fives on the shoulder. “We’ve got a job to do.” He headed down the corridor towards the cockpit, Echo and Fives following him, radiating bewilderment and dejection. Good to see the baby ARCs getting along with the random mystery space hopper. Rex snorted quietly to himself, reaching to turn off the board, and pushing the cheater’s switch hidden under Solo’s side of the table back into its little compartment. Tactical genius, indeed.

Solo was seated in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with some switches on the dash. The clearance light was lit up green, showing they’d been pre-approved for takeoff. Echo and Fives were strapped into the two rear seats, leaving the co-pilot’s seat open for Rex. He groaned inwardly- he  _ hated _ flying, he’d only barely passed pilot basic on Kamino, but he wasn’t about to admit any of that in present company. Or any company. 

“Everybody ready?” Solo asked, as Rex sat down and strapped in. 

“Affirmative.” He replied. Fives and Echo responded similarly.

“Everyone got their blasters?” Solo continued. “Helmets? Snacks? Anyone need the ‘fresher?”

“Just take off.” Rex said. The man sounded like General Koon.

“Alright, keep your hair on.” Solo said. He flipped a switch, and the ship gave a jolt, a deep rumble, and the entire sequence of startup lights lit up all at once as the engines roared to life. Rex released his grip on his armrests as Solo smoothly lifted the ship off the pad and maneuvered it towards the hangar bay doors, giving him that smug grin again.

“I hotlinked the startup sequence,” he said. Rex suppressed a growl. Why the universe saw fit to saddle him with not one, but two  _ flyboy idiots _ was beyond him.

“Doesn’t that put vacuum stress on the fuel pump? Sir?” Echo asked.

“Well, yeah.” Solo said. “The intake valves and the pistons take the brunt of it. I use aftermarket duranium parts. That way, they last five or six takeoffs before you have to replace them. I’ve got spares. I think.” 

“Oh good.” Rex muttered.

“That’s genius!” Echo said. Rex knew the exact expression he was wearing without turning around to look. Great. Not only was Solo a crazy son of a bitch, he was also a terrible influence on young, impressionable baby brothers. As if General Skywalker wasn’t bad enough.

They cleared the hangar. At Rex’s instruction, Solo set course for a slow-ish swing around the opposite side of the planet. They reached the edge of the  _ Resolute’s _ traffic zone and Solo kicked the sub-lights in, killing the repulsors. 

“Alright,” Rex said, turning his seat to face the others. “We’ve got twelve minutes before we reach our entry vector, so we’ve got that long for mission brief and planning.”

“Oh, we get a briefing?” Solo said, raising his eyebrows.

“Eleven and a half minutes.” Rex said, turning a flat stare on him. Solo shut his mouth and raised a hand for Rex to continue.

“Two days ago, Commander Tano led a team of four troopers down to the surface to investigate rumours of Separatist weapon caches in the mines of the eastern hemisphere. She checked in just before they began their descent, but we haven’t heard from them since. An enemy fleet moved into position above their entry point three hours after they were supposed to land, so we can only assume that they’ve been blocking communications.” He very carefully didn’t state the other possible reason they hadn’t received any communications. “Twenty-two hours ago, General Skywalker sent a scout team down to the surface, landing west of Commander Tano’s expected LZ and hopping overland to avoid the Seppie fleet. Lieutenant Jesse reports that they reached the LZ, but couldn’t find any sign of the Commander and her team. They encountered heavy Separatist resistance and were forced to retreat. Jesse reports that the droids have set up a defensive perimeter on the ground, so taking another overland approach is out. That’s where Captain Solo and his ship comes in.”

He turned to Solo. “The Separatist fleet can’t prevent civilian ships from landing without provoking a full Republic response, which they’d rather avoid. So you’re going to get us through their lines and land us as close to these coordinates-” he handed Solo a data chip- “as possible. This is the mine we’re pretty sure Commander Tano was planning to check out first. We’ll be able to avoid the droids on the ground and begin our search there. Any questions?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one.” Echo said. “How does the Separatists landing an entire platoon of droids on the surface not count as an invasion force? Doesn’t that authorize us to take action against them?” 

“Apparently,” Rex said, trying to keep himself from making the face he knew he was making anyway, “the droids are a ‘diplomatic envoy’. So no, it doesn’t count, and the prime minister is still refusing to let us land any more than a scout squad.”

“Well that’s dumb,” Echo said, wrinkling his nose. “They just want to keep pretending they’re not involved with the war, even though the Seperatists are building weapons with ore from their mines!” Rex shrugged.

“The politics of the situation is not our concern.” He said. “Right now, our concern is locating Commander Tano and her men.”

“I’ve got a dumb question,” Solo interrupted. “What planet is this?” Rex, Fives, and Echo stared at him. 

“Duterra.” Rex said flatly.

“Duterra, huh?” Solo said, a look on his face that made Rex suspicious. 

“Ever been there before?” He asked.

“Technically, no.” Solo said, before pointedly turning back to the controls of his ship to plug in the landing coordinates. Rex frowned. Duterra meant something to Solo, something he wasn’t sharing with them. He shared a look with Fives and Echo. He knew that they were thinking the same thing he was. Whatever relation Solo had to this planet, if it endangered ‘Soka in any way, Solo wouldn’t be flying the Falcon back to the Resolute. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey so I finally updated! I swear I didn't abandon this fic, I'm just Diagnosed Very Distractible and have about 500 other projects going on. I've got plans for this story, and I intend to post more often. We'll see, lol. Re-reading everyone's comments was instrumental in making the Motivation Machine work, so uhhh feel free to leave more of those XD
> 
> As always, please point out any typos or confusing phrasing, since I don't always catch them before posting.


End file.
